There was a chill in the early morning air, as I left Room 117. I didn’t drive straight home. I had experienced sex with another man for the first time in my eighteen, almost nineteen, years. Even though I had taken Mark up on the offer of a shower, where he joined me and I felt his mouth on my cock a second time, I still tasted and felt him on me.

I was conflicted. Part of it was guilt, I know. However, there was another part of me that knew Mark’s cock would not be the last I would experience. I did not walk out of that small motel room turned “queer”, whatever that is; yet, I was forever changed.

In the weeks that followed, I still chased girls. I was still fascinated and enthralled by them. To me, there is nothing sexier than the small of a woman’s back. That particular place, just the roundness of her ass, that dips just so. There are so many other places that I find attractive on a woman, but that spot does it for me. My lips long for that spot, even today.

I felt that way about nothing on a man. There was no spot on a man that I thought of as “sexy” or to which I was drawn. Still, I knew that I would soon ache for the touch of another man—to see that hunger, which I had seen in Mark’s eyes, once more. And yes, I also longed to touch another man—to feel him throbbing, as my tongue slowly slid along the underside of his cock.

*****

I had just returned to school from the winter break. It had recently snowed, but the rise in temperatures had melted all the snow and ice, except in the shadows of buildings. Like a lot of freshmen at the school, I lived on campus. My roommate had dropped out, and to my surprise, he had not yet been replaced.

I had not known my first college roommate all that well. I knew only that his name was Travis and that he partied non-stop. I had tried to keep up with him, but I was not even close to his league. He was a pro, where I was only an amateur.

It was Saturday, and classes would not start until Monday. I had a little over $300 of Christmas money burning a hole in my pocket, and I found myself at a skanky topless bar at the edge of town. They didn’t ask for an ID, which was a plus. I sat in a darkened corner in the back of the place and watched the shows the girls put on.

Even at eighteen, I knew places like that were basically scams. I looked about the place, as my eyes adjusted, and saw that most of the girls were girlfriends of bikers who lined the bar. I had a few beers and was out of there, before I found trouble or trouble found me.

I wasn’t drunk when I left, but I was seriously buzzed. I stayed to the side roads, as I headed back to the dorms. The last thing I wanted was to get pulled over. Even though I thought I was likely not DWI, I was underage. I knew any cop would be able to tell that I had been drinking. I reached an intersection at an old highway that had once been the main thoroughfare before the interstate had been built. As I started to cross, a bright red and white sign caught my eye. It read, “XXX Movies.”

I had never been in an adult bookstore or movie theatre. I pointed my car in that direction. I decided that it was a very convenient discovery, as I was horny and would love something to masturbate to when I got back to the dorm.

*****

A little bell at the door tinkled, as I entered. It immediately reminded me of the thoughts which had swirled in my head, as I stood before the door to Room 117. It seemed a lifetime had passed since that night. Still, as I thought of it, my cock stirred in my jeans.

The large lobby was well lit. There was a counter on one end of the lobby with books on the shelves to the right and videos on the shelves to the left. Each side was broken down by genres—gay, lesbian, straight, fetish, etc. There was a pregnant blonde working at the counter. She was sitting on a stool reading a magazine; she looked up at me and said, in a voice that betrayed her boredom, “I need to see some ID.”

At first, I thought I would be leaving very soon, but then I spied a sign behind her that said, “18 or over, Picture ID required”. With a shy, relieved smile, I produced my ID that proved I was approaching nineteen years of age.

She looked at my license, then to me. Comfortable that I was indeed old enough to peruse the fuckbooks and videos of the establishment, she handed it back, saying in a monotone that comes from repetition, “The books and magazines are for sale, this ain’t a library. Peeps are over through that door.” She pointed over my left shoulder to a curtained doorway. “The theatre,” she added with a nod to the right, “cost five dollars to enter. If you leave the theatre for any reason, you have to pay again.”

I nodded my understanding. She returned to her magazine and the fact that life had not quite likely turned out the way she had planned. As I turned back to the magazine racks, I could hear the sounds of muffled feminine moans coming from the theatre.

I wondered about the place looking at the covers of the books and magazines. Even if I had been thinking of this seedy place as a “library”, the magazines were all sealed in clear wrapping. The prices were fairly outrageous for thin little fuck rags, so I decided to see what the peeps had to offer.

As I started to head through the curtained doorway, the girl at the counter called, “Tokens only for the peeps. You can buy tokens here.”

“How much for the tokens,” I inquired. I had guessed, correctly, that they were 25 cents each, but the girl offered that I could buy 30 for five bucks. I slipped her five dollars and headed to the peep booths. As I entered, I saw a couple of men standing along the wall beside a no loitering sign. One was a short, fat guy. The other was tall and looked like he was approaching sixty. I felt the eyes of both on me, as I made my way past to a booth at the far end of the dimly lit hall. Closing the door behind me, I saw the slot for the tokens and slipped one in. A little counter showed that I had one credit. I pumped four more tokens in and sat on a little acrylic bench to watch the movie.

There were eight different movies showing and by pressing a button, I was able to change them. The movie, which had come on at first, showed two men using a third man anally and orally. I started to change the channel, but continued watching. Soon, my hand was rubbing the crotch of my jeans. My cock was throbbing, as I imagined being the third man. I imagined cocks sawing out of my mouth and ass. I imagined hands gripping my head and hips, just like those men were holding him—using him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sizable hole on the wall beside me. I had heard of glory holes in the past, but this one was the first I had seen. I saw an eye looking through the hole at me. The thought of being watched made my cock jump in my pants. Acting as if I didn’t notice, I undid my jeans and slid them down to my knees. My cock was throbbing in my hand, as I sat there and watched the video. As I slowly stroked my meat, I glanced over to the hole. I could hear the voice of a man moaning in approval, as he watched me through the glory hole.

The tokens ran out and the booth darkened. I quickly slipped the rest of my tokens back in the slot. As I sat back on the bench, I heard the man in the next booth whisper, “Can I join you?”

Nervously, I told him to come over to my booth. I reached up and unlatched the door. I saw that it was the older man in the hall, I had seen earlier. He smiled down at me, as he entered and latched the door behind him.

“You have a nice cock. Want it sucked?” he asked, seemingly unable to take his eyes from it. He produced a little bottle from a pocket, unscrewed the cap and held it to his nose, sniffing in the fumes. “Popper. Want some?”

I nodded, not really knowing what I was getting myself into. He held it to my nose, and I did as I saw him do. Immediately, I felt warmth envelop me. The feeling was fleeting but extraordinary.

I stood, my mind a little foggy, and let the older man sit on the bench. I fed him my cock, as I looked down at him. I rubbed the head over his lips, as his hands gripped my ass. I could feel his fingertips at the crack of my ass. His lips immediately glistened with my precum. He handed me the little bottle, and pulled my hips so that my cock pushed hard into his mouth.

I inhaled more from the little bottle, as I gripped his shoulder with my free hand. God, the old guy could suck. His mouth greedily pumped back and forth at my cock. It was not so much my cock fucking his mouth, as his mouth fucking my cock. I felt a fingertip at my ass. It pushed in, as his mouth took my cock. The loud sucking noises had to be filtering beyond the walls of the little booth. I am sure my pleasure-filled moans were.

I replaced the cap on the bottle after another long huff. I reach down with both hands to the older man’s shoulders, and started fucking his mouth in earnest. This drew heavy moans around my cock, and I felt his finger inch deeper into my ass. It hurt a little, but I found the pain aroused me even more.

“Fuck yes, deeper, man. Oh fuck yes.” My balls were slapping his chin, as I begged him to spear me deeper with his probing finger. I felt his drool streaming over my ball sac, as I fucked his experienced mouth. He responded by pushing his finger as far as he could.

I cried out loudly, as I exploded in his mouth. His finger had found just the right spot to send me immediately over the edge. I held his head to me, as I pumped load after load into his hot, needy mouth. He groaned with pleasure, as he milked every drop from my pulsing meat.

Finally, he let my cock slip from his lips. He grasped it and kissed the underside with a delighted smile, as he whispered, “You have a lovely cock.” After a pause, he added, shaking his head, “And, you sure do like to fuck, don’t you?”

I laughed self-consciously and nodded saying, “Yeah, fuck. I guess I do, huh?” I groaned a little, as he removed his finger. I handed him back the little bottle, but he shook his head and handed it back to me.

“Keep it,” he said with a smile and departed.

I sat there on the bench, my jeans still at my knees for a few moments. I had to catch my breath. Again, I felt a little guilt, but also satisfaction. I had cum as hard, if not harder, than I ever had with a girl. Looking back, I guess part of it was the taboo nature of the act I had just committed; however, I knew deep down that it was because for that older guy, my cum had been the whole reason for his being there. Up to that point, girls had only let me fuck them, because they wanted other things. With men, I was merely a sexual thing. With the girls I had been with to that point at least, sex was just a means to an end.

I returned to my dorm that night knowing I was bisexual. There was no way to get around it. While I much preferred the look and feel of women, I knew that I would always need that feeling that I felt only with another man. I knew that my first foray into that seedy little place would not be my last.